


Everything We Knew

by CookiesAndKatanas



Series: Fresh New Trash [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Death Raves, Domestic, Fae manipulation, Minor Character Death, Other, Urban Magic Yogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesAndKatanas/pseuds/CookiesAndKatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Will never stumbled into Kirin's shop, ducked into a dingy alleyway instead? What if Garbage Court found him there, swept him up for themselves? </p><p>Garbage Court was only ever about carving out a home on their own terms, and the deeper Will gets, the more he wants to be a part of it.</p><p>(tags and rating will change)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You'll Be A Bright Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will arrives in the city, feels the warmth of a home and fresh new magic welcoming him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up 15 minutes late with starbucks*
> 
> cw: slight dysphoria?

     Will had never liked driving, and didn’t think he ever would. It was always so stressful being hyperaware of all the machinery and wiring, which, while not too bad on its own, became a problem when other cars had problems so obvious they screamed out on the road. It made a one day road trip stretch into two, and by the time he was on the road into the city’s suburbs, there was a headache pressing at his skull and pounding at his temples.

     The lines of power that were formed over years of large, well traveled roads became more powerful as he got into more populated areas, but upon reaching city limits, Will felt as if they were pulling, like it would be hard to turn off onto a smaller road. His brow furrowed further and he immediately winced. He’d been stressed non-stop for all the time he'd been driving, and his face was actually starting to hurt from scowling.

     His eyes scanned the horizon, the skyscrapers of the city proper rising up above the apartment buildings and sound barriers lining the highway. Something in his gut pulled towards it, stronger than the ambient energy of the roads, and he pursed his lips and turned his attention back to driving. The headache was a slow boil in his head, pressure pushing in behind his eyes, and he just hoped to get to Xephos' before it got worse.

     A tinny voice suddenly cut through the quiet music on his speakers, his phone reading off directions, and he flinched at the sudden change. The music came back on as the gps finished its instructions, and he turned off the highway.

 

     Around the corner from Xephos' house, he pulled over to take a moment and breathe. He'd called during his last rest stop, told him his estimated arrival time, they were surely waiting by now. He took a deep breath, glanced around, and quickly reached under his shirt to adjust his binder, then flipped the mirror on his sun visor open, scanning his face, his hair, his expression. He usually defaulted to scowls, but showing up to live with his uncle (who he was never close to or even saw more than three times in his life but kindly offered to put him up regardless) with a sour face would not do him any good.

     He carefully schooled his expression into something more pleasant, and then promptly winced at how round his face looked when it was open and welcoming. He focused for a moment, summoning up a glamour he'd done a handful of times (with varying success). He felt a flush across his face and opened his eyes, examining his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks weren't quite as soft and his jawline slightly more angular, but it was surely only noticeable to him, spending as much time criticizing his reflection as he did.

     He sighed, comforted himself with the fact that he probably wasn't at his peak with the headache threatening to crush his skull in, and mentally bolded "glamours" on his list of magic to learn as he turned back onto the road.

     Pulling up in front of Xephos’ house, he was reminded faintly of a visit when he was seven. He spent most of the trip ill, and didn't remember much from it except brief flashes. He slung a duffel of essentials over his shoulder from the passenger seat, and walked up to the door.

     At the doorbell, there was a harried voice and rushing footsteps, and had barely a moment more to collect himself before the door flew open, revealing his uncle Xephos, who immediately exclaimed, "Will! How good to see you again!" He raised his arms, hesitated, then clapped a hand on Will's shoulder instead of pulling him into a hug, and ushered him in as Will stumbled through his own pleasantries.

     The health charms around the threshold, or maybe just the air conditioning, was like a balm to his frayed nerves and pounding head. As he dropped his bag off by the entryway hall, Will considered taking up household magic. It’d never interested him before, but he could clearly learn a lot from Xephos.

     He couldn't take a moment to truly appreciate it, as Honeydew was just inside, eyeing him with a bright grin. He was shorter than Will remembered, but just as exuberant, coming forward and hugging Will tight with none of the hesitation that his husband had shown. Will hugged back, not wanting to offend, and his smile started to feel a little less forced with the way Honeydew’s face lit up the room, although he still pulled away quickly.

     Lalna poked his head into the room, spoon in hand as he waved and mumbled a "'ello, cuz, good to meet you. Dinner's about ready."

     Before he could duck back into the kitchen, Xephos snapped, "Lalna! You've never met before! Come, give your cousin a proper greeting."

     With a heavy sigh, Lalna stepped into the living room and held a hand out for Will to shake. Will, thoroughly amused by Xephos telling off someone who looked his age, grinned as he accepted the handshake, saying, "Right, good to finally meet you Lalna, I'll help with the table?" Truth be told, Lalna was making him feel most comfortable, treating him as one of the family, no fanfare.

     Lalna tugged him towards the kitchen, and behind them, Honeydew was reassuring Xephos, "Dear it's fine, they'll be bonding, you know how boys are."

 

     Xephos, Honeydew, and Lalna made no comment on his appearance or voice, asked no questions about his transition, and, most importantly, didn't even fumble his name or pronouns, not once, all throughout dinner. They caught up on a myriad of things, how Will’s family was doing (well), family friends that Will would be meeting sometime (Lomadia, Nilesy, Nano, and the other Lalna), Will’s strengths in magic (electronics and machines), and what he expected to learn now that he was in the city where he had access to more resources (enroll in classes, try to find a mentor).

     Will helped clean up after dinner, drying plates and watching where Xephos put them, learning the layout of the kitchen. Taking a pot from Lalna, Will commented, “You know, dinner was really good, Lalna, thanks, it was great after the long drive.”

     Lalna looked up at him, a mischievous grin spreading over his face, “Oh, thank you, Will, no one’s ever told me that before!”

     From behind him, Xephos scoffed. “Don’t listen to him, Will. Honeydew made dinner, Lalna was only watching the stove as me and Honeydew came to the door.” Xephos accepted the pot from Will and stooped to put it in a cabinet as Lalna giggled.

     As Lalna finished up the silverware, Xephos took the towel from Will, saying, “Don’t worry about the rest, have Lalna help you bring in your boxes.”

     Seeing Will about to protest, Lalna clapped his still wet hand on his shoulder, leading him to the door, insisting with “Yeah Will, I can show you your sweet digs and show off how ripped I am.” He flexed and patted his bicep as Will opened the front door and tried to stifle his smile.

     They brought in four boxes, left the other half for the morning.When Lalna looked as if he were about to stay in the attic and help Will unpack, Will said, “I’ll set stuff up on my own, I’ve got it from here. Thanks for helping me with the boxes though, those stairs are a bit much.”

     Lalna laughed, “Well, best to get used to it, you’ll be going up and down them for as long as you’re here.”

     Will rolled his eyes and huffed. “Don’t remind me. Goodnight then.”

     Lalna waved before leaving and closing the door behind him, and Will waited until he heard him hit the bottom of the stairs before sighing contentedly.

     He took a deep breath and smiled. He could smell faint traces of fresh paint, and the recent smell of cleaning product. Xephos clearly wanted him here and wanted the best for him, and Will couldn’t help but be ecstatic at his first day in the city. His headache was nearly gone since he’d been in the house, Xephos, Honeydew, and Lalna were welcoming, and clearly were ready to make him one of the family.

     Will thought that it’d be easy to take them up on that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will had always struck me as more garbage court than sidhe, he has the same hunger for power and camaraderie as the sirs, the same drive to claw his way to the top and prove himself. this idea has been floating around in my head for months, im excited to finally share it
> 
> thanks to [froggy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/donotspeaktomeofdragonfire/), theo, troy, and owen for encouragement and catching a plethora of mistakes
> 
> infinite thanks and love to all of squid squad for putting up with my UMY rambles for the past few months, ranting on about ideas has helped me get to this point more than i can say <3
> 
> find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


	2. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do horrible things, scam people, keep them in shit situations, incur life debts, and kill people. But at the end of the day, they shrug off those faces like well worn armor, fall into each others arms and just _be_ , because the love came before the cruel faces and harsh manipulation, and that sense of home they have in each other is why they're there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fae manipulation warning from here on out, though it's only mentioned for now. 
> 
> cw for obnoxious amounts of fluff, I'd say I'm sorry but I'm really not

     Ross’ favorite part of any day was getting back to the apartment block. He liked climbing up through the window if he was alone, something natural and calming coming from being perched on the side of his building. The pale stone was prone to crumbling, so he had to be careful or Trott would be upset.

     He heaved the window open and slinked inside, immediately toeing off his shoes. His hands slipped to his waist, hovering on the button to his jeans before he realized Sips was probably home, and would most likely complain about the nudity sooner or later. He padded into the hall and lifted his shirt over his head, stretching and arching up onto his toes with the movement.

     Sips was on the couch, reading the paper. It was Monday, and Sips liked to take Mondays off. He said he deserved more off days because he was a king, but Ross thought it had more to do with the sly smirk he had as Trott mainlined coffee and left for his rounds late.

     Ross tiptoed up behind him, the padding of his feet covered by the soft jazz coming from the record player on Sips’ end table. He draped his shirt over Sips’ head, a playful grin on his face.

     Sips leaned his head back, dragging out his vowels in a monotone “Oh nooooo.” Ross grinned down at him and let Sips’ hands find his face when he reached up. Sips pulled him down and pressed their lips together through the shirt, and when Ross started laughing against him, he pulled the shirt away. “Aw Ross, a guy tries to be romantic and you laugh at him, see if I try to kiss you again.”

     Ross climbed over the couch, carefully listening to the creaks of the frame as he said, “You know you wouldn’t be able to stay away Sips, weren’t you taught not to lie?”

     Sips pulled back from retrieving his dropped newspaper, pulling an exaggerated face of disbelief. “You calling me a liar?”

     Ross cheekily grinned up at him where he settled his head in his lap, saying, “If only there was a way you could get me to shut up.” Sips broke face, chuckling and leaning down to kiss Ross, who met him in the middle. They broke apart and Sips went back to his newspaper, folding it to hold it in one hand while the other absently rubbed across Ross’ head, scratching at his hair and rubbing across his horns.

     After a few minutes (or maybe more, Ross wasn’t sure if he drifted off or not), Ross said, “Some witch on 4th Street is expanding her stock.”

     Sips looked down at him, confused. “She’s not ours, not that far out?”

     “No, she’s not, but she could be. The bastard’s not going to like competition so close, she sells a lot of what he does. She’ll-”

     “-and she’ll need the protection. Nice catch, Ross.” Sips finished for him, smiling down and ruffling his hair.

     “And I saw a witch again today, saw him a few days ago too. We don’t know him.” Sips made a small sound of acknowledgement, turning his eyes back to his paper and Ross continued, “He’s pretty strong, I think, I’m not too sure. But he has more power in him than Trott for sure.” The hand in his hair paused, and Sips lowered his paper.

     “You sure about that, Ross? Trott’s magic isn’t nothing, you know.”

     Ross tilted his head slightly. “Trott’s strong, but a lot of it comes from knowing so much.  He’s not the best, even if he likes to think so.”

     Sips hummed consideringly. The hand on his head started moving again, and Sips said, “Well, just remember to tell Trott when he gets home, he’ll want to see him.” Sips paused, then continued, his voice low and conspiratorial, “You might wanna leave out the part about Trott being weak shit though. I get the feeling he might not like it.”

     Ross smiled at the teasing, and bumped his hand with a horn. He shifted to grab the remote and turn on the tv before nuzzling into Sips’ thigh and settling in for a movie.

 

* * *

 

 

     Smith’s favorite part of the day, without a doubt, was leaving work. Work was tedious and boring and most of it was just sitting still behind the counter. The extra luxury of running a business legitimately gave them only barely made up for it. Trott had used Sips against him to get him to work afternoons, said having paychecks cycle back into household funds would help, and even though Smith did get to keep some money for himself, it was the principle of it.

     But he could let go of that when he went home, driving the long way around because none of his rivers needed checking up on, so he could take his time. He took the loop of highway around the city, driving fast and reckless in a way that helped center him after long hours of boredom. He peeled into the parking deck behind their building, the guy working the booth hearing the rev of the engine and having the gate open for him. Smith winked at him as he walked out of the garage and into his building, amusement spreading over his face at the unphased wave he gave in return. All the people Trott put up around their building and businesses knew he was a hopeless flirt by now, and only the fact that the court needed them stopped him from picking up the ones that flirted back.

     He waited for the elevator, not willing to run up the stairs in the summer heat. He smiled and nodded at the young girl who got off the elevator. They’d only picked her up a few weeks ago and she was still a bit skittish. She looked like she was about to go on shift at the sweets shop, if her bright outfit was any indication, and Smith didn’t bother with small talk, not wanting to hold her up from her shift.

     When he stepped off the elevator, he could smell dinner cooking from down the hall. Smiling to himself, he unlocked the door and threw it open, bellowing, “Honey I’m home!”

     Sips looked over at him from where he was leaning on the kitchen peninsula, raising an eyebrow and opening his mouth to say something, but Ross cut him off, shouting back, “Hello, dear, light of my life!”

     Sips slowly closed his mouth and turned to turn his playful glare on Ross’ back, who stood at the stove, oblivious. Smith shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the couch before strolling over to Sips, bumping his hip and looking at Ross. “So what’s for dinner?”

     Sips pointed to the book that was propped up on the counter, saying “Some type of pasta Ross wanted to try. It’s very fancy, maybe a bit too highbrow for you.”

     Smith smiled sharply at Sips, a tense but playful “Fuck off mate,” as he made a grab for the beer sitting in front of Sips, bringing it to his lips and taking a drink. The retaliation that he expected didn’t come, and he realized the beer was flat and warm, actually warm, with the heat of the kitchen, and had a sharp taste cutting through it that he couldn’t place. Fucking microbrews.

     He pulled a face and scowled at Sips, who was laughing at his expression. “What the fuck, why’s this so hot? And this tastes like shit, we’re not getting this again.”

     Ross turned towards them, wooden spoon still in hand, gestured to the counter and said, “It was by the stove and I didn’t notice, we wanted to see if you’d go for it.”

     Smith glared at both of them, the smallest hint of a smile poking through, muttered “Pricks,” under his breath and nudged a still chuckling Sips on his way to the fridge for a fresh beer.

     Ross watched him bemusedly. “If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t in favor of adding the bit of extra spice from cooking the vegetables, it does taste pretty good otherwise.”

     Smith’s face twisted further. “Christ, I can’t believe you gave that to me."

     Sips made an indignant sound. “Ross! You were on my side once I said we could get  Smiffy and Trott to have it!”

     Smith straightened suddenly from the fridge, twisted to look at Sips with a grin. “Well, if we’re gonna give Trott a go then why didn’t you just say so?” He stepped back from the fridge, beers in hand. He tapped Ross’ shoulder with a bottle as he passed, putting it down by the sink.

     Sips tutted at him. “Well Smiffy, if someone didn’t get their panties all in a wad then we would’ve.” Smith took the other two bottles to the counter, where he settled opposite Sips and pulled out his keychain and opened the bottles.

     He gave Sips a teasing look as he passed him a bottle, saying, “Ooh, wearing panties, Sips? Randy bastard.”

     Ross laughed by the stove as Sips batted his lashes at Smith and said “Just for you, Smiffy.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

     Before he was even in front of their door, Trott could already hear Smith’s shouting from inside the apartment. He smiled tiredly to himself, unlocking the door and shrugging his messenger bag off his shoulder, hanging it by the entrance.

     Ross and Smith were in the kitchen, laughing and shouting, presumably about the sauce smudged across Smith’s face and the spoon in Ross’ hand. Smith was holding Ross’ wrist, leaning back and keeping the spoon away from smearing more sauce across his face. Sips was sitting at the peninsula, laughing with the other two, and Trott would’ve bet that he had been egging them on not two seconds earlier. Trott closed the door loudly, watching with mirth in his eyes as everyone’s heads swivelled toward him.

     Smith was the first to react, almost immediately whining, “Trott! Tell Ross to stop being a prick!” Sips went back to laughing at Trott’s unimpressed expression, and Ross took advantage of Smith’s distraction to smack him on the cheek with the flat of the spoon.

     Trott saw Smith’s surprised expression start to shift into something more mischievous, and he decided to step in before Smith started escalating their little spat. Once the two of them got going, they wouldn’t stop until they tired each other out. “Ross, shouldn’t that spoon be somewhere besides in Smith’s face?” Trott joined Sips by the peninsula, leaning against a bar stool and crossing his arms.

     Ross lowered his arm, and Smith still held it, eyeing him warily. Ross glanced to Trott, grin still firmly in place. “It could be in yours, Trott.”

     Trott grinned back, arms uncrossing. “You’re welcome to try, but you’ll be the one cleaning up, sunshine.”

     Ross’ grin faded slightly, not completely disappearing though. “Hmph. Dinner’s almost ready anyway-fuck’s sake Smith, let go!” Ross tugged his arm again, harder, and Smith released his wrist with a quick step back as Ross turned towards the sink, rinsing off the spoon. Smith still watched Ross, more smug than wary now though, and Ross feinted towards him to see how Smith’s hands rose to fend him off.

     Trott huffed out a laugh, relaxing and settling on the stool next to Sips as Ross set water to boil for the pasta and Smith washed his face in the sink.

     Sips leaned over, pulling Trott's face towards him with a gentle hand on his jaw. He kissed Trott's cheek, and Trott leaned into him, eyes closing and breathing out slowly. He loved coming home for this, the banter and teasing, the way he could relax and shrug the day off his shoulders.

     A bottle nudged his hand and Trott opened his eyes. Sips had slid a beer over to him and Trott straightened up with a grateful smile. He raised it to his lips, taking a deep swallow, and promptly started coughing, grimacing and trying his hardest to not get beer on himself.

     Sips was laughing next to him, and Trott realized a moment later that Ross and Smith were laughing as well. He swallowed hard, rubbing his tongue against his teeth to get the taste off. “Ugh, what the fuck was that?”

     Smith was the first one to compose himself, “Warmed up beer, sat out for a while, and then Sips and Ross decided to put seasoning in it.”

     Trott looked at Sips and Ross, who’d started laughing anew as Smith explained. “See if I don’t get you guys back.”

     Smith looked offended, and quickly objected. “Hey! They did me first, you know, this was all them!”

     Trott raised an eyebrow at him. “Promise me that beer next to you isn’t poisoned as well? I need to get this taste out of my mouth.”

     Smith smiled and handed the bottle to him, and Trott caught the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him on top of his head. Smith straightened, smiling as Ross whined behind him, “Oi, Trott, what about me?”

     He rolled his eyes and lowered the bottle, motioning Ross over. Ross brightened, his tail happily flicking behind him. Trott held his face on either side, kissing his forehead and flicking it as Ross pulled away.

     Ross gave him a small pout, but turned away to the pot boiling on the stove. Sips stood and stretched, pointing at the cupboard behind Smith, held out his hands as he passed him plates and stacked silverware on top of them. Sips left the plates on the counter for Ross, but took the forks over to the coffee table, set them down and spread out some pages from that day’s newspaper so they wouldn't have to clean off the table later.

     Smith joined Sips on the couch, the two of them bickering about what channel to watch, leaving Ross to serve plates and Trott to ferry them to the table. As soon as the plates were in front of them, Smith and Sips abandoned their argument to dig in.

     Trott found some wine in the fridge, that he assumed had been bought for tonight, because they didn’t really have any good beer for pasta. He poured out glasses as Ross took their plates to the couch and restarted the tv channel argument.

     He perilously balanced all four glasses and set them on the table, settling next to Smith. The drone of some business news program that Sips liked took over as they enjoyed their dinner.

 

 

* * *

 

 

     Sips loved Mondays.  He loved how Trott pointedly ignored his looks when he woke up late and moved through the morning slowly. He liked that he could relax all day, and Ross usually came home a bit early from his rounds to spend some time with him. He loved that Smith was a bit more restless than usual by his return to work, easier to goad and tease. He especially liked Mondays because that was when no one else had a show on that they followed, and he could watch his stock news.

     He sometimes wished the others would pay attention to it more, seeing as Sips’ investments were probably the single best thing they had going for them, money wise. He couldn’t really begrudge them their disinterest though, stocks were only fun once you knew how to work them.

     At the first commercial, Ross turned down the volume on the tv and leaned forward to look across the couch to Trott. “Oh, Trott, so I found something really useful today.” Trott hummed through the food in his mouth, leaning forward and giving Ross his attention as he continued, “Well, there’s this witch over by Fourth and Turner, she’s expanding her store, and the greenhouse bastard won’t like competition much, so I figure we might want to get involved, get us a foothold in the area?”

     Trott’s chewing had slowed, and Sips noticed even Smith’s expression turned serious, but was still surprised when Smith spoke up first. “Mate, that’s only a couple of blocks from Leviathan, we could expand up using the river, let me talk to-”

     Trott cut Smith off quickly ignoring his indignant look as he said, “Ross, we need more information on this, when she’ll be buying more property, when it’ll open, and find out how the locals feel about their lord, we can’t make a move so close to him without their support.” He turned to Smith with a softer look in his eyes. “Sorry sunshine, but we can’t have you running off there and getting hurt, you know better than I do how that river earned its name.”

     Smith looked ready to argue, undoubtedly to say that he could defend himself just fine, but Ross spoke before he could start speaking. “And another thing, Trott. There was a witch I saw today, for the second time, and I think he’s pretty powerful. He’s young, but seems pretty well off, going by how he’s dressed. I wasn’t sure if we should go after him, so I wanted to ask you first.”

     Trott nodded, thinking. “How good of a read did you get on him? Is he worth the effort?”

     Sips chimed in, sending a quick mischievous glance to Ross before turning to Trott and saying, “Ross said earlier that he made you look like weak shit.”

     Ross started spluttering, and Trott and Smith burst out laughing at his chagrined expression, and the quick way the tense mood broke. Ross got his words together after a moment, raising his voice over the laughter, “No, no I didn’t say that! Sips made up that shit on his own.”

     Trott nodded at him, laughter subsiding, and asked again, “So is he enough to try?”

     Ross nodded slightly. “I think so. He’s, he’s at least as strong as you, Trott.”

     Trott tilted his head consideringly, and Sips tuned out for a moment as he realizes the commercials have ended. He tried briefly to listen to the quiet murmur of the tv over Ross and Trott talking right next to him, but soon realized it’s not getting him anywhere, and listens back in on the conversation.

     Trott was saying to Smith, “-way won’t work, but if he’s young you can still pick him up.” The neutral look on Trott’s face dropped suddenly, and he fixed Smith with an intense glare. “That’s picking him up for the court, not for yourself, Smith. We’re not going to keep losing people to you.”

     Smith leaned away from Trott a bit, into Sips, and Sips could feel Ross’ tail unravel from his ankle to loop around Smith’s. Smith nodded, and Sips could see the indignation starting to come up as Trott scaled down the intimidation.

     Ross cut in once again before Smith could derail the conversation into an argument. “He was at a different coffee shop each time I saw him, he might be new around here and trying to find a good place, Smith could start there?”

     Trott nodded, cutting his eyes back to Smith, smiling as he said, “Well, good thing the liquor store opens in the afternoons, you have all morning to look for him.”

     Smith’s lips twisted. “Working me for hours every day isn’t enough, I have to have more, of course.”

     Trott ignored him, used to his token complaints. “Description, Ross, so that Smith actually knows who he’s looking for without constantly scanning everyone?”

     Ross nodded, counting off traits on his fingers like he already had the list in his mind. “Well, he’s short, 5’5” at most? A bit stout, as well. He’s white, blonde, has these godawful sunglasses. He was probably in the shops around nine, brings his laptop, but I only saw him twice.” Smith nodded, but Ross still had a look of concentration on his face. “There was something else, I think.”

     Trott shrugged, standing and picking up plates. “It’ll come to you, it’s enough to go off of. Will you hand me that -”

     “That was it!” Ross exclaimed, cutting Trott off. “His name, I saw it on his cup, his name’s Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact, this is literally the longest chapter of anything i have ever written
> 
> more fun facts: this is my first time ever writing hats, I've not formally written anything for years, and this is my first long fic, like, ever. so if anyone has any concrit to offer, it'd be much appreciated
> 
> many thanks to troy for the beta 
> 
> find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/) for incessant ramblings about this fic, or to shoot me a message, I don't have nearly enough friends in this fandom


	3. The Answers To These Questions Mean Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunter finally finds his prey and lays some hooks in him before letting him go, confident he’ll come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont make me look at this anymore
> 
> cw for fae manipulation

     If there was one good thing to be said about this fool’s errand Trott had him out on, it was that Smith got to spend money on ridiculous drinks more candy than coffee, and no one could scold him for it. Ross had luck, seeing the guy twice in a week, but Smith was at a tiny coffee shop for the tenth day in a row, looking up at every person that came in. He was starting to get a headache from focusing in on people’s magic. ‘White blond guy,’ did Ross even know how common white blond guys were this close to the eastern suburbs? Besides the headache he had before even stepping into work, he could feel the tension lacing higher and higher every day from sitting still for even more hours.

     He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He’d been reading up on a few potions blogs on his phone, and the small text didn’t do his headache any good. He was snapped out of his immersion in reading about a workspace setup when he felt a familiar tug in his stomach. He looked around, immediately scanning for whatever prey his instincts alerted him to. He honed in quickly on a short blond in line, scowling down at their phone in concentration.

     He was nearly standing by the time he registered what he was doing. He hadn’t felt his instincts so overwhelming since his first months in the city. He stood by his table, uncertain for a moment, then moving with purpose as he threw his jacket across it and focused on the well dressed-.

     He stiffened suddenly, his breath catching in his throat. At the same moment he realized he may have found their witch, he focused in on him, meaning to check out his emotions and if it would be worth him trying to pick him up. All that he processed was an immense amount of magic rolling off of him, not in waves, but like the flow of one of his rivers, constant and strong. It was distracting in the way a bright light in your face is, and his awareness of the magic around him faded as he turned his mind away from it.

     There hadn’t been direction to it, so it wasn’t a spell, and as Smith composed himself and walked up to get on line behind the witch, he considered briefly what it could be. Flaunting your magic around like that was asking for trouble, and Smith just supposed they were lucky the witch didn’t hang around other parts of the city, because he would’ve been picked up long before this.

     The witch was looking at the board behind the counter, two customers still in front of him. He wasn’t glaring anymore, but the tightness around his eyes and the hard line of his mouth lingered. He looked startlingly young and for a moment Smith wondered if his plan of flirting would work or if he should try a different approach. But the collared shirt and slacks he wore put him at at least twenty years old, and Smith resolved to go forward, blind as he was without being able to tell what the witch was feeling. Trott had been putting glamours on him every morning since this hunt started, making him seem nonthreatening and amicable, and Smith trusted Trott’s enchantments.

     His own natural charm wasn't nothing though, and he turned that up as much as he could without adding actual magic into the mix.

     He moved so he was nearly next to the shorter man, leaning towards him slightly, and said,  "I think the cookies and cream frappe is pretty good."

     The witch stiffened and turned, his eyes moving upward to rest on Smith's disarming smile.

     Smith could see the split second unease on the younger man's face,  his natural instinct to frown or brush him off warring with the effects of the glamours and spells he had layered on. The witch smiled uncertainly and hummed acknowledgement before turning back to the board.

     Smith chuckled good naturedly, "Doesn't seem like you're going to take me up on that, there's this other thing, tastes nearly like a-"

     "I like-" the witch hesitated, cleared his throat. "Sorry, I like coffee, real coffee."

     Smith smiled at the cheek as the witch turned forward again. The line moved up and the witch went up to the register, quietly ordering, and Smith weighed his options before deciding to not offer to pay. He couldn’t risk spooking him, after all.

     Before the witch could move towards the pickup area, Smith stepped in next to him, leaning on the counter and ducking his head. He couldn't get the whole 'looking up through his eyelashes' look from this angle, but he could damn sure try. "So, name's Smith." He nodded towards his table in the corner. "I have a table, care to join me?"

     The cashier cleared her throat pointedly, and Smith turned to her, smiling and asking for a doughnut. She went off to get it for him, and he turned back to his witch, who was still looking a bit apprehensive.

     Despite the shorter man’s apparent reluctance, he still smiled warily and said, "I'm Will, and, er, sure." He looked past Smith, and said, "I'll just, get that."

     The cashier came back with his doughnut, and Smith watched as Will collected his coffee and settled at the small table, setting his bag between himself and the wall and proceeding to turn his cup nervously in his hands. Smith hurriedly paid and strode over to the table, set his bag down and shrugged his jacket back on. He smiled at the way Will furtively glanced up at him as his thin t-shirt stretched tight across his chest.

     Smith sat down in his chair heavily, fished his doughnut out of the thin paper bag, and set it down. He gave Will a saccharine smile but internally sighed. He hated small talk, no matter how easy it came to him.

     Nearly twenty minutes later, after everything from the weather(hot and muggy, Will had better get used to it), to a surprisingly heated debate about coffee(which brought Will out of his shell nicely), to solstice plans(a rather large party for Smith, and a barbeque and circle with family friends for Will), Smith decided it was time to get serious.

     “So, what brings you here? You work around here? Must be a pretty nice place, you being all dressed up like that.” He leaned in slightly, smiling roguishly as he allowed his eyes to wander. “It suits you.” He pulled his nearly finished nutella cappuccino towards himself and carefully found the straw as he continued eyeing Will.

     Will looked down at his button down shirt and slacks, pulled at the front of his shirt as his face colored. “I- well, you- you can’t really ever be overdressed, I think.” He drew up his shoulders and looked up at Smith, seeming to put conscious effort into composing himself. “And I’m just getting to know the area.” He gestured towards Smith with his cup, saying “What about you? What are you around here for, I mean.”

     Smith smiled and shrugged. “Killing time before my shift. You have a job?” He continued before Will even opened his mouth to answer. “Must be hard making a living when people keep trying to pick you up.”

     Will’s eyes crinkled at the corners and there was stifled laughter in his voice when he said sharply, “People like you?”

     Smith laughed, leaning back in his chair again. Sure, he’d practically handed that one to him, but seeing the first genuine smile on someone was always a treat, Smith loved being able to do that to people. Collecting himself, he smiled warmly and said, “So really, you’ve got to be some sort of investment guy or a tech nerd.”

     Will shook his head, and he replied, “Nope. I’ve just moved here, looking around for magic tutors. I am a techy guy though, you could say. I do technomancy. The formal schools don’t have the help I need.”

     Smith’s smile widened. Regardless of the field, power like his, of course schools couldn’t do much for him. “Well, my buddy is pretty good with magic, he could help you out. He could also hook you up with a job, if you’d want some spending money.”

     Will looked taken aback, his lips parting as he floundered for words. Smith’s eyes darted down, and he determinedly ignored the tug in his stomach and squashed down the instinct to cast a charm that would guarantee Will would take the offers.

     Will found his voice a second later, “That’s- that’s very kind of-” His cheeks colored and he cleared his throat. He started again, much more evenly this time. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but, I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, I don’t know the guy, I hardly know you-”

     “But you’d like to, am I right?” Smith leaned forward onto his elbows and grinned at Will. “At least, I know I’d like to get to know you better.”

     Predictably, Will flushed again, ducking his head slightly, and Smith noticed how his cheeks filled in and his eyes crinkled a bit, though his lips didn’t turn up much. Smith continued, before Will could deflect again. “We could go out later this week, or maybe next? Could invite my mates, introduce you. Can’t know too many people, only being in the city a little while, yeah?”

     Will drummed his fingers against the side of his cup and nodded. “Sure, that sounds like it could be fun. So, when would-”

     Smith smiled and cut in, “Give me your number and I’ll let you know.”

     The uncertainty that hadn’t been present since their first ten minutes of conversation came rushing back as Will hesitated.

     For a moment, Smith’s mind was racing. He was flustered by the compliments, and although he didn’t smile much, he seemed to enjoy them. Maybe Smith had been reading him wrong all along? Gods, Trott and Ross would-

     “Give me your number, I’ll call you right now so we both have each other’s?” Will’s voice was tentative, but he looked hopeful

     Smith exhaled slowly, his muscles unfreezing from where they had locked in place. Technomancer, right. Phone numbers were probably as useful as names, no wonder he was cautious.

     They both pulled out their phones and Smith rattled off his number as Will typed it in. Will was tense for a long moment before Smith’s phone rang, and his shoulders immediately relaxed when it vibrated in Smith’s hand.

     As Smith added the contact info, Will asked, “So what do you have in mind for us to do?”

     Smith shrugged, and held out his phone screen to Will. The contact information page was still up, the cursor blinking in the name field. “Last name? I’ve already got a Will.”

     Will took the phone from Smith’s hands, typing quickly before handing it back. Smith laughed when he saw what Will had entered, a small coffee mug emoji next to his name. Smith was glad the kid was smart, he didn’t like working with people who didn’t think things through, and picking them up was no fun either.

     Smith put his phone down and looked back at Will, who was smiling at Smith’s laughter. “And for what we’ll do… Maybe a movie and then dinner, or the arcade on East 63rd, or the zoo in East End Park?” Will was nodding along, so Smith added, “I’ll talk to my mates, see what they think too. They’ll all want to do something different.” Fondness had nearly crept into his voice at the end there, and he mentally flinched at the slip up.

     Mistakes were something they could not afford with this kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i started this chapter three days before the deadline i had set for myself. turns out my estimation of my writing speed was extraordinarily accurate and i shouldnt try to push myself for faster, because i simply cannot do it. this fic is also an exploration of my own abilities as a writer, so we're figuring out my limits together.
> 
> infinite thanks to theo for ripping into this chapter like i needed, this finished product is infinitely better than what they first saw. they sacrificed for the greater good.
> 
> and thank you so much to everyone who is reading, leaving kudos, and commenting. the notifications truly make my day, and especially as i was dragging my feet writing this, it really pushed me to keep going. thanks so much for all your support.
> 
> as always, you can find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


	4. The City, It Loves You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has always had a special relationship with solstices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the promised death rave chapter, but heres Will's take on solstice before that. this chapter and the next take place pretty much concurrently.
> 
> depersonalization/dissociation warning

     Will always got sick around solstices.

     Since his magic started manifesting, he could never participate in solstice parties, or anything for a week before and after.

     It goes like this: about a few days before a solstice or, to a lesser extent, equinoxes, he’d start to feel lightheaded.

     It started with constant vertigo, and a sort of half-numb feeling in his fingertips. After the second solstice spent puking up his guts and moving as little as possible, his mom called Xephos for advice. Xephos had advised to ward against it, the heightened magic of celestial events was affecting Will, and the worst thing to do was to let magic control you, instead of the other way around.

     It worsened from there as his magic grew, and thus started the horrible tradition of Will being homebound for the holidays he most wanted to celebrate and utilize.

     A few years ago, his family left to a party for the winter solstice. They were all familiar enough with his condition that they knew he could take care of himself, and he’d be okay if he just drank his warding potion, kept his charms on, and stayed inside the threshold.

     So with everyone gone and not there to fuss, he decided to do a circle. He’d been trying to project an interface from basic hardware, and while the internet told him it was something people could do, he’d been having trouble.

     When he started drawing on power for it, he could feel magic pressing in on his circle, thick and cloying, like it’d wash over him and drag him down. He already was dealing with the usual headache and nausea, so he just set his jaw and continued. But the combined wards of the circle and his personal precautions were apparently not enough, because the next thing he remembered, he was waking up, sprawled out, breaking his circle, his muscles and skin burning like he’d never felt before.

     He laid on the floor until the pain of it all faded into the background, and he cleaned up his circle, leaving no evidence for when his parents would inevitably come in and check on him later.

     It took him hours to fall asleep. Pain lancing through him at random intervals, at times a searing bone-deep heat, or a particularly nasty throb of his headache, or when he shifted even the tiniest bit. He could feel the molecules of matter against his skin, the way he felt so raw.

     When the sun started to rise, he finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

     Will always shuddered to think about what would happen if he ever faced a solstice without his countless concoctions and spells and talismans.

     Xephos had piled a mountain of charms and spells onto him, to the point that Will could feel them, the sticky way they settled across his skin. He knew it would be bad in the city, after all, he could feel the pressure of magic at all times since he arrived, and he knew if that was his baseline, he was in for hell.

     It seemed impossible that he could ever be in more pain than that winter solstice years ago, and yet here he was, the evening of summer solstice, feeling like he would turn inside out.

     He’d originally been holed up in his bedroom while all the guests milled around downstairs and in the backyard, with Xephos coming up to check on him every few hours. The guests had started trickling out after seven to go set up their own circles for the evening.

     When Xephos, Honeydew, and Lalna were done cleaning up and moving about, Will took refuge in the small second floor bathroom that he and Lalna shared. Lalna must’ve gone and told Xephos that Will had been throwing up and retching for the past hour, because soon after Will felt the digital clocks in the house turn to ten pm, there was a knock on the door.

     He straightened up a bit and ignored the way his head pounded when he called, “I’ll be right out.”

     “Will, are you alright?” Xephos sounded worried, and somehow managed to make it clear that the concern was not a question.

     “Yes, Xephos, I’m fine, just-” as Will started to stand, he felt his stomach heave again, and struggled to choke back bile silently as his diaphragm did its best impression of a black hole.

     The doorknob rattled and Will slammed his hand against the door, forgetting for a moment it was locked anyway, and the shock of pain reverberated up through his arm.

     When he got his breath back, he said, "I'll just be out in a second."

     He flushed the toilet, and as he moved to the sink, Xephos continued his wordy fretting behind the door. The sensation of water over his hands made him want to scream, but he just hissed and rinsed out his mouth, muscles tense and aching from resisting the urge to pull away and curl up on the floor again.

     He bent to pick up his robe from where he discarded it on the floor earlier, and a bout of lightheadedness hit him as he stood. He braced a hand on the sink as he waited for the grey to clear his vision.

     Putting on his robe hurt every inch of skin it settled against, but he tied it and opened the door with a smile. "Sorry Uncle Xephos, didn't mean to worry you."

     Xephos stepped back from the door with a frown heavy in his face, but let him slip by towards the attic stairs. He was just on the first stair when Xephos called, "Will." When he turned back to look at him, Xephos smiled reassuringly. "Tell me if you need those wards strengthened."

     Will nodded, and walked laboriously up the stairs, hoping Xephos didn't notice that he usually ran up them.

     In his room, he immediately took his robe back off, taking a moment to revel in the feeling of his skin against nothing but air. Even the air felt like a lot, but it was at least a significant improvement from the heavy polyester fabric. He carefully maneuvered onto his bed, laying back and trying to ignore the way the sheets felt like sandpaper.

     He meditated in the way Xephos taught him when he'd first told him about his constant headaches, loosening all his muscles and focusing on the swell of magic in him. It was hard, with Xephos' magic coating him like a layer of slime, but he cleared his magic as best he could, letting the magic settled heavy in his chest distribute evenly across his body.

     He was acutely aware of every electric device in the house, could feel when Lalna’s phone started ringing, the way the vibration felt as if it would rattle his skin off his bones, and he just wished it would turn _off_.

     A moment later it stopped, and Will quietly thanked whatever higher power existed that Lalna decided to pick up quickly.

     He could feel the hum of the computers, televisions, and fridge, quiet drones of steady power, and the even quieter sizzle of lights in the basement and downstairs bedroom. He took comfort in the familiarity of their constant background noise.

     When he was done circling through all the house's appliances, he was back to himself, aware anew of the sticky feeling of magic that wasn't his own. He wiped away a layer of magic, remembering why it was there a moment too late, and panic hit him as he became aware of his ever present headache again, quickly snapping out of his trance. He furrowed his brow and tried to slip back into his awareness of magic, but the panic of a protection gone prevented him from doing so, and he was stuck in his racing thoughts. He could only focus now on the way he could feel the remainder of the spells weighing heavy on him, of the press of the city's magic beyond that.

     The talisman around his neck settled in the hollow of his throat, reminding him of the distracting, dense ball of magic it created on him, and he was suddenly so angry at his inability to deal with something everyone else did just fine. No one else needed all these protections and spells, maybe he just needed to learn to deal like everyone else. He was tired of being coddled for his weaknesses. Besides, he had made it himself years ago, and it was probably useless with how little skill he had back then. He angrily whipped it over his head, and his arm and head protested the movement, aching muscles making themselves known again. He laid back once more, letting his stillness calm the onslaught of sensory feedback he got with every move.

     After a while, he was able to slip back into his magical awareness, finding it easier without the heavy talisman stifling magic around him. He made his rounds of the house again, noting that Xephos' laptop was in the living room now, in use. He could feel the pull of data from the router, and followed the signal out to the service provider a half mile away. He quickly peeled away from Xephos’ line, and followed whatever data appealed to him, long, complex codes pulling him in like a moth to flame.

     He could feel delicate wisps of something keeping him back, and pushed through them easy as tissue paper. He followed streams of data bouncing across the city, slipping into server banks and computers as easy as breathing. He could distantly feel his own awareness pulling at him, and try as he might, he couldn't slip into data packets and stay there, couldn't become a line of code himself and forget his pain and ineptitude.

     Programs were so much easier than people, and yet he couldn’t condense himself no matter what language he thought in. He flipped through familiar programs on servers he knew, lines of php and python flashing in front of him, the simplicity of it all wrapping around him soothingly.

     He flitted between cellphones and laptops, java and c-based languages flickering by almost faster than he could keep up, but he saw it all and understood everything.

     He bounced back to his own cell phone almost without realizing, became aware of physical space at the same time that the familiarity of data in the device hit him.

     He opened his eyes, lines of blue brackets and commands dancing in his vision. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the feeling that he shouldn't. Things were a simple true/false for a few moments, if stiff, then stretch, if tired, then yawn, if in pain- false.

     That yanked him out of his strange headspace quickly, amazed that he hadn't been wracked with pain from the moment he became aware of his own body again. He turned to look at his clock, his magic beating him there and by the time his eyes found the numbers, he already knew it was nearly two am.

     He'd just meditated past solstice, not spent it curled up in pain or passed out. And the residual pressure of magic at its height wasn't even affecting him. He marveled for a moment at Xephos' skill, and realized with a start that the spells that had been layered on him seemed to have dissipated without even a harsh yank at pain to startle him awake.

     He laid back on his bed, wondering at where his sensitivity to magic had gone.

     He yawned and pulled the covers up around himself. It could wait for the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, ahaha, long wait for this one, right? ive been working on the death rave but its. its damn hard. first time writing smut, so its slow going, despite my working on it for... 2.5 months now. jeez. this chapter was originally going to be a paragraph at the end of the next chapter, but it grew to the point that i could post it on its own
> 
> while i'm writing the next chapter though, you can expect updates over on [come the morning light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4811441/), where youll find nonchronological scenes and snippets, mostly of when Will is already in deep with the Garbage Court. theyll eventually find their way into this fic when theyre rewritten and edited and this timeline catches up, so youre not missing much if you skip it, but in the meantime its something for you to enjoy.
> 
> as usual, many thanks to theo for the beta, they are truly my guardian angel in these trying times
> 
> that being said though, I think I could stand another pair of eyes on my work before I post, and if youre interested in betaing, shoot me a message at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


	5. Dance With Monsters Through The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because when you get right down to it, a life in exchange for power and protection is more than a fair price to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cws for fae manipulation, sex, murder, blood, blood drinking, and mention of cannibalism/people eating
> 
> Thanks to Leon, Three, and Ghost for betaing

     Trott loved their raves. Truly, he did. He loved the way Ross flourished under the pressure of a large task, the way he was bright and driven for weeks leading up to it. Ross was tense and excited like a dog with the prospect of a walk, unable to settle himself and nearly impossible for anyone else to control. 

     Trott loved the predatory way Smith moved and danced among the crowd and mercilessly teased anyone who met his eye. Smith was a beauty to behold when he was showing off and taking his time among humans, subtly  _ more _ in a way that was impossible to describe or replicate. 

     He loved the way Sips got more and more comfortable during the raves every year. Sips had started to wind around their venues alone, and while he didn’t dance, he still managed to draw the attention of those around him, intimidating and fascinating them.

     Trott loved the way the low vibration from the intricate sound system pounded in his chest, how it caught his breath and felt like it was tripping his heartbeat. Energy twisted up from the crowd and swirled around the room like a living thing, moving as steady and strong as the tide. It settled in his chest with the bass surrounding him and Trott  _ ached _ with it. 

     Oh yes...he loved their raves.

     He would like them more, though, if people did their  _ damn jobs. _

     An entire wall of lights went out over five minutes ago, while he was greeting and catching up with Nano. When Ross had come down from the rafters to meet her, he took the opportunity to duck away and go see why someone hadn’t fixed the damn lights across a quarter of their space. 

     Half of the balcony was dark, and a good chunk of the main floor (thankfully not the part where the thickest part of the crowd was). Their raves, especially their solstice raves, were a show of power, and little things like this messing up showed the undoubtedly present Sidhe Court spies that they couldn’t manage things.

     Trott stalked past two guys stumbling over each other and laughing as they made their way away from the crowd of dancers. He noticed how one flinched back at his harsh expression but the shorter one straightened up and smiled at him. 

     Perfect, whoever’s mistake he had to go fix was depriving him of a potential sacrifice to point out to Smith. It was Smith’s turn to pick someone up, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make suggestions. At least Smith never had any trouble with reeling someone in.

     Stomping up the stairs to where the breaker box was, Trott was just in time to see Luis flip the switch back on. 

     Luis turned, and catching sight of his face, held up his hands before Trott was even within earshot. When Trott stalked up to him and crossed his arms, he immediately started in on the excuses.

     “Trott! Some of the lights went out, you probably knew that, me and Mathias-”

     Trott cut him off with a upheld hand. Luis immediately shut his mouth, and glanced around nervously. Luis had been with them a few years, knew how they worked. More importantly, he knew when to shut up. It was one of his better qualities.

     “You know how important this is.” He waited until Luis nodded before continuing. “We can’t afford this. Next time, make sure it doesn’t happen.” 

     Luis nodded again, relief showing through obviously. “Of course. Will do, boss.” 

     Trott could feel his lips curling up into a sneer, so he sent Luis off to go check the glamours around the warehouse before he could get more wound up.

     Putting it out of his mind, he turned to the railing and looked over the main floor below him. The long bar was crowded, the bartenders shouting and grinning at each other. One of the new ones was doing so many tricks and flips with the bottles it almost looked like dancing. 

     The dance floor was a thick mess of bodies. He tried to catch sight of Smith, looking for auburn hair through the flashing colors and lights. He scanned over the rest of the floor, and saw a gaggle of people heading towards the door to the smoking area. Sips was in the center of them, a cigarette already in his mouth, smiling at something the person next to him was saying. Trott rolled his eyes fondly. Sips was magnetic, he always managed to draw a crowd of people who just enjoyed his company. He couldn’t see Ross through the crowd from this angle, but he was pretty sure he could see the  impressive height of Nano’s Lalna, and Ross was probably still with them.

     He pulled out his phone, dismissing the usual updates and looking for a text from Smith. Sure enough, there was a single message, short and succinct: “found her, upstairs bar.”

     Smith was behind the bar mixing a drink for a girl. Trott joined them, leaning up against the space next to her. He was only barely taller than her, and she wasn’t even wearing heels. 

     "So is this is her, then?" Trott asked Smith, giving the girl a charming smile. 

     Smith grinned at him and slid the drink over to her. "Yes, it is! Here's the doll I was telling you about."

     The girl flushed and held her hand out to Trott. "I'm Addy." The lights highlighted the sparkles in her bold blue eyeshadow, making her eyes bright and wide. Trott absently wondered what she’d look like blowing Ross, all that vivid blue.

     Trott took her hand and kissed it, watching the surprised pleasure on her face and the smile that grew there when he dropped her hand. "Short for Abigail, then?"

     Addy huffed with annoyance and shook her head. She raised her voice over the speakers at the opposite end of the warehouse. "Addy with d's. Adeline.” The slightest breeze of power brushed Trott’s cheeks and he smiled charmingly.  She continued on, oblivious. “You wouldn't believe how many times I get that."

     "Sorry, love," He gestured vaguely around them, "Music and all, you know."

     She nodded, smiling again, and took a sip of her drink. Smith had walked around the bar and settled behind Addy, laying a hand on her waist. She turned and smiled at him, gestured to her drink. She said something that Trott didn’t catch, and Smith nodded. 

     Looking up at him, Smith asked, “So have you seen Ross around?”

     Trott looked off the balcony, to where he thought he saw Lalna before. He wasn’t quite sure if they were still there, with all the people in the way, moving in front of where they were. “I left him with Nano, then came up here about the lights just a couple of minutes ago.”

     Smith hummed and scanned the crowd, letting his fingers trace the skin around the girl’s waistband. “What about Sips, he still with his fan club?”

     Trott nodded. “The last I saw him he was going out for a smoke and they all followed him.”

     Smith looked at him questioningly, glanced at the girl in his arms that was finishing her drink, and Trott said, “Don’t worry, they’ll catch up with us.”

     Trott pulled out his phone and sent Ross and Sips each a text to meet them in the side room they’d set up for tonight’s sacrifice. They wouldn’t see it for a little while, vibrations lost in the thrum of the bass that filled the air, but they’d check their phones before long.

     He checked up on some updates that the various staff sent him, mostly income updates from the bar and door. When he looked back up, Smith was kissing at the girl’s neck, his hands at her ass to support her as she went on tiptoes to try to match his height. Smith met his gaze over Addy's shoulder, and waggled his eyebrows. Trott rolled his eyes but stepped in close behind the girl, resting his hands on her hips. She jumped, and turned to Trott, using her hands on Smith’s shoulders to push him away slightly. 

     Fixing on his most charming smile, Trott asked, “Mind if I join in?”

     The girl looked out over the crowd, undoubtedly searching for somebody, as most of their sacrifices did before they eventually followed them to a bed. She glanced back at Smith, who brushed a lock of hair out of her face tenderly. “Don’t worry, Addy. I’ve got you.” He kissed her gently, and Trott could feel the faintest tickle of a charm.

     She pulled away from him, and with one last fleeting glance towards the dance floor, smiled brightly. “Sure. I definitely don’t want to pass up you two.”

     Smith grinned and pulled her into a rough kiss, and she smiled into it. When Trott’s hands swept over her thighs, she shivered, and hummed when he started leaving rough nips at the parts of her neck he could reach.

     Smith ran a hand through her hair, and when she mewled into his mouth, he grabbed a fistful and pulled, laying her head back against Trott’s shoulder, baring her neck to him. He quickly took advantage, sucking harsh marks and grazing his teeth against smooth skin. 

     Her knuckles were white where they clutched Smith’s jacket, pulling him close, and Smith’s hand drifted across the back of Trott’s where he was bracketing her waist. Trott pulled away from the side of her neck where he left a deep bruise, to look over at Smith. He must have felt Trott looking, because he moved to kiss him. As their lips met, Addy gasped and Trott could feel her hips moving, into Smith’s hand most likely.

     Trott smirked into their kiss, and brought his hands up from her waist, thumbs brushing over her bra. One hand released Smith’s jacket and found Trott’s shoulder, clutching at the fabric as she rolled her hips between them and panted. 

     Smith pulled away, and Trott slowed his movements at the girl’s breasts. “Maybe we should move this somewhere more private?” 

     Trott nodded and pulled away from the girl, “Excellent idea, Smith.” 

     Smith kissed her neck as she straightened up and nodded, letting her hands fall from them to fix her clothes. She looked a mess, her mouth slightly open as she caught her breath, full lips red from kissing, blooming hickeys all across her neck.

     They would have so much fun with this one.

     Smith grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the bar and down the stairs, matching grins on their faces. Trott hesitated for a moment at the top of the steps, scanning the crowd for Ross or Sips.

     Addy called to Trott from the bottom of the stairs, prompting Smith to turn and realize he wasn’t following. Smith waved, and Trott quickly raced down the stairs, letting his excitement show on his face and in the way he jumped down three steps at a time. 

     He let his momentum carry him into Addy’s space, pulling her into a kiss with a hand on the back of her head. Smith crowded up behind Trott, hands wrapping around him to pull Addy towards them by her waistband. Trott’s hand fisted in her hair as Smith ground against his ass, and she gasped against Trott’s lips.

     They separated when Smith loosened his pull keeping the three of them together, and Addy paused against Trott’s lips with a smirk. “Somewhere more private, huh?”

     The entrance to the side room they had prepared was on the opposite end of the wall from them, but Smith and Trott took their time, pushing Addy up against any free wall space and kissing her. They drank in her eager smiles and quiet whines, always pulling away before things got too heated. By the time they pushed her up against the door, she was completely gone, lips parting and pupils blown. Smith pulled her head back, kissing her roughly. She moaned at Trott’s hand at the front of her sinfully short shorts.

     Smith’s hand was on the doorknob; his keys in the lock. When Smith pulled back, the girl whined at the loss. Trott wrapped his arms around Addy instead, pulling her into him and kissing her so Smith could open the door.

     Trott backed her into the room steadily, smirking to himself that she trusted them enough to not look around and walk for herself. He guided her to the bed, and she sank slowly down, pulling Trott on top of her. She hooked a leg around him, clinging onto his arms, and arching up towards his dick. He dropped his hips, making it easier for the two of them to grind against each other. 

     There was a thump behind them as Smith threw his jacket to the couch, and Trott heard him huff in a way he recognized as a laugh. As he pulled away from the girl to look, Smith said, “Hey Sips.”

     Trott and Addy both snapped their heads to where Smith was looking, and Sips was there, on the couch lounging casually. He smiled at them and waved a hand, saying, “Don’t mind me. Please, continue.”

     Addy shifted backwards on the bed, and as Trott moved off to the side of her, she quietly said, “What the fuck.”

     Trott kept a hand on her thigh, rubbing idle patterns. Smith turned to her and explained, “He’s our mate, really great guy. Mind if he sits over there and watches?”

     She looked uneasily between them all, and asked Sips, “You’ll just be watching, nothing else, right?” 

     Sips smiled and nodded, and held up his hand as if taking an oath. “I’ll stay here on this couch the whole time. I’m not much for getting involved.” Addy didn’t immediately respond, so he tacked on, “Scout’s honor.”

     Trott joined in, tracing up her thigh and across her waist, “Plus, we’ll be giving him a show, a show you’ll be getting too.”

     Addy thought about it for a few moments more, oblivious to the tension all the men were feeling. Smith met her eyes and smiled in the soft way he did for his victims. She slid back a bit, and Trott relaxed when she smiled at him and Smith. She asked teasingly, “So where’s our show then?”

     Trott could feel all the agreements and approvals compounding in the air, the way she gave herself to them again and again and again, and he felt like laughing with the weightless feeling it gave him.

     He stood to meet Smith, and the grin on his face told Trott that he felt it too. Before Trott could raise his eyebrows at him, Smith pulled him into a low dip, kissing him with more uncensored emotion than they really should show a sacrifice.

     Trott managed to get his feet under him and pressed up into Smith. He bit at Smith’s lips when he refused to lean back, and snaked a hand up into his hair. Smith shivered. Trott gathered Smith's hair in a tight fist and pulled, but besides a smirk he promptly nipped at and a soft sound he could hardly hear, Smith still didn’t budge.

     Moving his hands to the small of Smith’s back and the back of his neck, Trott let Smith think he’d won for a bit. He ceded ground as he leaned back into Smith’s arms, and licked inside his mouth. Smith tightened his hands around Trott at the loss of Trott’s hands in his hair. Trott pretended it wasn’t obvious Smith was nearly gagging for it.

     When Smith started kissing down towards his neck, Trott decided to take back the reins. He yanked Smith’s waist towards him, and grabbed the back of Smith’s shirt collar. The collar of Smith's shirt pulled taut around his neck as Trott tugged him backwards. Smith breathed out hard, straining forward and pulling Trott closer, still mouthing at his neck. Trott had the benefit of leverage, so in short order Smith was at full height.

     Trott shifted his hand from around Smith’s waist to flat on his chest, pushing him back. He watched the way Smith grit his teeth at him. Smith was defiant even as his collar dug into the skin of his neck. His shallow, quick breaths were audible even over the music still thumping in from outside the room. Trott grinned at him, a threat display more than a smile. Fleetingly, he missed his tusks. 

     Trott maneuvered Smith towards the bed. Addy was grinding against her hand and fondling her breast through her shirt. When Trott looked over to her and winked, she licked her lips and put more pressure against herself through her shorts. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get right to taking care of you,” he said.

     “Don’t take too long,” she answered. Her voice was aiming for sultry and teasing, and achieved neither.

     Trott smirked at her before turning back to Smith, who had let his hands start to wander as Trott’s attention was elsewhere. “And  _ you _ , sunshine.” Trott pushed him back on the bed that wasn’t taken up by Addy. Smith, not expecting it, went down easy. He managed to hook his fingers into the belt loops of Trott’s jeans and pull him down with him. Trott threw out his arms and caught himself, but he was precariously balanced over Smith, whose eyes still had that bright, mischievous light.

     Trott kissed him hard, teeth clacking on impact, and both of them grabbed and pulled at each other. He shuffled around and got his knees on either side of Smith’s hips, hands at the bottom hem of Smith’s stretched out and ruined t-shirt.

     Smith sat up as much as he could, stomach trembling at the awkward position. Trott might have moved a bit slower than necessary when taking Smith’s shirt off, but Smith didn’t seem to notice or care, pulling insistently up at Trott’s shirt as well until Trott lifted his arms and let him tug it off. Smith pulled Trott back down immediately, rocking their hips together and sighing against Trott’s lips when their chests met skin to skin.

     Trott kissed down Smith’s neck, biting at his clavicle to hear him gasp and feel him arch. He continued down his chest, placing a flutter of soft, wet kisses and then a sudden sharp bite. Smith reacted as always, rocking his hips upward and biting his lip. When Trott reached his waistband, he glanced up at Smith, who was up on his elbows, staring down at him. Trott looked over to Addy, whose hand was now in her pants, and he could see from the angle of her arm that she was definitely fingering herself. He smirked at her in the way he did for all pretty lost things, and she flushed deeper as he licked his lips and went back to Smith. 

     Smith wore unbearably tight pants to raves, but this was a show, so he supposed he could at least try to undo his jeans with his mouth. It’d been awhile since he last used this trick, so Trott was pleasantly surprised when he popped the button on his first try. The zipper was harder to catch, with the fabric covering it, but he got it down before the heat of the moment died. 

     He stood, pulling down Smith’s jeans and boxers all at once, and Smith kicked off his boots to help along. He smirked up at Trott. “Feelin’ a bit eager there, mate?” 

     Sips chimed in from the couch, “That’s our Trotty, little eager beaver.”

     Smith grinned and palmed at his dick. “Well, he does like a bit of wood in his mouth, if you know what I mean.”

     “He likes it a little too much, some would say.”

     Trott looked sharply at them both, “Oi, well good thing neither of you is getting a blowie from me anytime soon.”

     Sips just grinned at him as Smith whined, “But Troottt-”

     Trott cut him off, patting Smith’s hip and nodding towards the center of the bed. “Move over, will you? Someone here would actually appreciate it if I went down on them.”

     He looked at Addy, who was looking between them all and seemed unsure of how to react. Her hand was still in her pants, and the image clashed horribly with the lost expression on her face. Trott took pity on her and motioned her over, “Come on then.”

     Addy straightened up, licking the fingers she just had inside herself. She aimed a sultry look to Trott as she crawled over Smith and knelt on the bed in front of him. She pressed herself against him with a sigh and kissed him. His hands found her hips and slid up under her shirt, thumbs brushing against her nipples that strained against her bra. He tugged at the shirt, a demand phrased like a question, and she raised her arms up. His broad palms traced her arms as he slid her shirt over her head. They kissed again, but steadier now, Trott setting the pace. 

     When her shirt cleared her hands, he threw it aside, separate from their pile of clothes near Sips. Her hands, instead of settling around his shoulders like he expected, twisted back to unclasp her bra. She got it off her arms while not breaking their kiss, and tossed it without a care to where it landed.

     The girl hummed as she pressed herself against Trott again, nipping at his lips, impatient with his slow pace. He smiled against her and gently pushed her backwards, hands sliding down to her hips as she laid back on the bed and spread her legs, a clear invitation.

     Smith immediately vied for her attention, scooting closer so he could touch. He rolled one of her nipples and kissed her roughly like she’d been wanting.

     Trott started at her ankles. He unzipped her strappy sandals, sliding them off with steady hands brushing her calves, and moved his hands up. He stroked her thighs as he bit and kissed at the inside of her leg. Trott could hear her breath catching, see her stomach tensing, and he brought a hand to the front of her shorts, rubbing his knuckles against her. He could definitely hear her moan at that, and her hips ground against him hard, pushing for more. 

     Addy scrabbled at Smith, scratching across his back and down his arms.

     Trott traced around her waistband, and she whined for a moment before pushing Smith away, gasping. “Please, just, please, yes, take them off, anything is fine, yes, yes,  _ yes- _ ”

     Addy cut herself off as soon as Trott started to undo her shorts, pulling Smith back towards her and moaning loudly against him. Trott felt the air thicken and was light-headed with it. He swayed slightly on his feet with the power she kept handing over to them, without even being asked. He kept his hands moving, not wanting to tip her off, but he could hear Smith panting- he felt it too.

     Trott pulled off her shorts and threw them by her shirt. He held her thighs and pulled her down so her hips were at the edge of the bed.

     Addy tensed for a moment, and Smith shot him an annoyed look at moving his plaything. Trott blinked innocently up at Smith as he crouched down, before letting a smirk take over.

     He kissed carefully at Addy’s thighs, teasing around the edges of her panties. He could feel how hot she was, how wet and ready she was, and he felt as if his whole body was straining towards her. The yank low in his stomach was easy enough to ignore, but the pull of magic in his chest was harder to resist. He could barely hold himself back from starting the ritual there and then, but without Ross it'd be so much weaker. He absently wondered when Ross was going to check his phone. It was getting late, and they couldn’t stall forever.

     Trott kissed up over her panties, pushed her hips down when they tilted up to keep him at level with her clit, and curled his hands around her. His thumbs dug in just below her hipbones. He smiled at the way she moaned into Smith’s mouth and arched her back, and he took the opportunity to slip her panties down.

     “Fuckin’ finally,” she muttered against Smith’s lips, and Trott huffed with laughter. 

     “And here we see Trott, being a teasing douchebag as always,” A quick glance up showed that Smith was grinning down at him. Addy was up on an elbow to bite and suck at his neck.

     “Trott knows how to treat a lady right, Smiffy. It’s how he picked you up,” Sips teased.

     “As if Trott could...” Smith trailed off, groaning quietly as he turned his head to give the girl at his neck more room.

     Trott grinned. “I don’t know, sunshine, you look pretty easy to me,” he teased, continuing to lay wet kisses up Addy’s thighs. She hooked her legs over his shoulders as he nipped the thin skin at the top of her thigh.

     “Fuck off, mate,” Smith hissed, pulling Addy away from his neck and kissing her. 

     They were taking out their frustration on each other. Smith’s hand fisted tight in her hair, and Addy scratched down his chest. Her hand continued down his stomach, with light fingertips as her wrist changed angles.  Smith huffed out a quick breath, brows furrowing and back rolling like his hips jerked forward, but her thigh was blocking Trott’s view.

     He lifted his head to watch her hand on Smith’s dick, but she must’ve gotten fed up, because she pulled away from Smith and looked down at him. She dug her heels into his back and hissed, “Stop teasing, c’mon.”

     Smith shot a tense smile down at him, and said, “Yeah, c’mon Trott, be a mate.”

     There was a chime from over by the couch, and everyone’s heads snapped over. Sips had Trott’s phone in his hands, and before he could say something, Addy took her hand off Smith like she’d been burned. She held it across her chest and snapped, “Phones away, I’m not getting nudes of me out-.” Her sentence cut off abruptly, and Trott’s mind filled in the unspoken “again.”

     Sips smiled in that placating way of his and turned the phone around to show a messaging screen. “Nothing to worry about here. Just texting someone.” He glanced over to Trott quickly and continued, “Mind if he joins us?”

     She glanced at Smith, who smiled at her and smoothed out her hair. Trott could feel the charm winding through the way he held her eyes. 

     Trott rubbed his thumb on her hip. “Don’t worry, love, He’s as fit as the rest of us.”

     She looked at him, still between her legs, and asked, “Is he as much of a tease as you?”

     Trott smiled, and said, “No, don’t worry. He loves to please.”

     She glanced around again, and said, “You all had this planned.”

     Trott’s brows rose and he glanced at Smith and Sips. “Well- yeah. We did. Weren’t sure if you’d agree to all three of us at once.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say other than the truth, since she’d already figured it out. 

     She laughed at the admission, and the tense air dissipated a bit. “Who else are you planning to bring in then?”

     “No one else, just him,” answered Smith.

     Her lips twisted. “Any more surprises and I’m out.”

     Trott kissed her thigh placatingly, “No more people after Ross, we swear.”

     She nodded and glanced back over to Sips, making sure he put the phone down before             she laid back, pulling Smith with her. She was gentler than she was before, less hurried and wound up, and Smith responded gentle and slow in turn. There was less moaning now, but more drawn out sighs and heavy breaths.

     Trott licked across her folds and her back arched, her heels pushing at his back in encouragement as he held her apart to lick broadly at her. She hummed into Smith’s mouth and Trott felt the sound go straight to his dick. He unzipped his jeans, sighing out across her sensitive skin as he let his hand linger. He palmed himself as his tongue flitted across her clit. Teasingly, he moved lower, and briefly dipped his tongue into her. His fingers splayed across her stomach, as his thumb rubbed small circles around her clit. He could feel her hips rocking ever so subtly under his hands and mouth. The way she he was so expressive with her body reminded him of how Smith would writhe under him when they fucked.

     A familiar rhythmic knocking sounded at the door, and Addy’s legs slipped off his shoulders to let him stand. Addy had pulled away from Smith to look at the door, and Trott leaned across her to tug Smith into a quick kiss. When they separated, he could see the hungry look in Smith’s eyes, flashing green so quick it looked like a trick of light. Trott grinned and licked his thumb clean, enjoying the lusty expressions that followed him as he turned towards the door. 

     The knocking hadn’t stopped, as was Ross’ habit, and when Trott opened the door Ross dropped his hands, smiling brightly at him. Trott wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. His hands wandered, going against skin everywhere they could. Ross’ glamour was always well done, but a touch up never hurt. Trott’s hands skated down over Ross’ chest, fingers slipping just under his waistband and strengthening the spell around Ross’ dick and tail. 

     Satisfied, he pulled away, and Ross swayed a little, following him. His eyes were dazed with the magic in the room suddenly hitting him. Trott tugged him forward by his jeans, and Ross closed the door behind them. 

     Ross cleared his throat, eyes still on Trott. “You taste good. Got started without me?”

     Trott smiled at him, and turned to introduce him to Addy.

     The words died in his throat as he saw Smith on his back, lips parted slightly, looking at them hazily. Addy was straddling him, slowly grinding against him, and she panted, “He does look nice. Maybe better without the clothes?” 

     Ross rushed to strip as Trott moved back over to the bed, pushing his pants and boxers down as he went. He stepped out of them and sat on the edge of the bed, hand gliding down Addy’s back to settle on her waist. “So this’s Addy then, and that’s Ross.” Ross was about to toss his jeans over by Sips, and Trott reminded him, “Lube?” 

     Ross nodded and mumbled, “Sure, right, I have some…” 

     He dug through his pockets and Addy said, “And condoms.”

     Ross pulled out a small bottle of lube and some condoms. “We’ve got ‘em.” 

     “Could say we’ve got ourselves covered,” Smith added with a smirk. 

     Sips booed from behind them and Ross let out a quick laugh.

     Trott stifled his fond smile and moved up onto the bed to kneel behind Addy, sighing out when she pressed her ass back against him.

     Smith carded a hand through her hair gently and asked, “So does this work, like this, and you sucking off Ross?”

     Addy took a moment to look Ross up and down again, and said, “As long as I get fucked I don’t care about the details.”

     Trott hid his grin in kisses along the back of her neck as Smith whispered breathlessly, “Perfect.” 

     Ross pressed the condoms and lube into the back of Trott’s hand, and Trott took his wrist, pulling him close and kissing him. He could feel the humming vibration of excitement and magic in the air between them all, and he absently wondered how Ross was faring, walking into what must be a dense cloud of magic by this point. 

     Trott pulled away, leaning his forehead against Ross’, their breaths mingling as his hand skated down his chest. Trott’s hand was gentle as he stroked Ross’ cock. He reveled in every small gasp. 

     “Trott…” Ross whispered.

     Smith cleared his throat pointedly and Addy giggled when they ignored him. Sips laughed from the couch behind them, “Come on, Ross, before Smiffy blows a gasket.”

     Ross pulled away to give Smith an appraising look, glancing meaningfully at the girl who was still rocking her hips slightly against Smith. “Blow his load, more like.” 

     Addy smirked at that, grinding hard against Smith as he started to protest. His words died off into a quiet groan, and Trott licked his lips, ignoring the pang that the sound sent through his stomach.

     He took the lube and condoms from Ross, and swatted his hip. “Go on then sunshine, wouldn’t want the fun to end too early.” 

     Ross took a step, curled over Smith and kissed him. Smith arched toward him, and Addy made a small noise as he shifted under her. 

     Trott took a moment to make a show of crinkling the condom wrapper as he opened it, and said, “Move up for a moment, would you, love?” She straightened, and looked down, watching Trott as he slipped the condom on Smith. He jacked Smith off for a moment, then focused on the spot below his head that always drove him crazy. Sure enough, Smith fell away from Ross’ lips and gasped. 

     The girl held Ross’ wrist as he made to get on the bed, and said innocently, “What about me?”

     Ross smiled sweetly at her, in the overly saccharine way of his. “Of course.” 

     As they kissed, Trott took advantage of the distraction to slip the condom off Smith, and loudly opened the other. Smith took hold of her hips and guided her down onto his dick, and she moaned into Ross’ mouth. Trott tossed the unused condoms off to the side and left the wrappers to the side of the girl’s calf. Barriers would just stifle the magic, and none of their physiology was compatible anyway.

     Ross slowly got onto the bed, and Addy straightened up to match his height, bouncing slightly on Smith's dick, panting into Ross’ mouth. 

     Trott reached over and grabbed her shirt from the edge of the bed, then popped open the lube and got his fingers slicked up. When Addy felt his fingers at her ass, she stopped moving and pulled away from Ross, leaning over and arching her ass up so Trott could fuck her and she was at eye level with Ross’ cock.

     Trott slowly teased her open, and they’d done this enough that he knew Smith would be trying to restrain himself from rolling his hips at the sensation. He wrapped an arm around the back of Ross’ thighs and distracted himself with running his hand up and down, digging his fingers in every so often. Ross had one hand on Addy's shoulder and the other running through her hair as she licked at him, her breath shaky and her hips jerking back onto Trott’s fingers. 

     When her movements evened out and she was relaxed around him, Trott pulled his fingers out, lubed up his dick, and slowly pressed in. Addy pressed back on him and moaned, high and needy. She rocked back and forth, adjusting to their combined size. Smith’s hand fisted in the sheets with anticipation. 

     Trott shut his eyes, overwhelmed with sensation and need. The image of Smith’s white knuckles seemed burned on his eyelids. 

     Trott heard a zipper behind him, and Sips’ satisfied sigh. He looked over his shoulder. Sips had taken off his shirt, his jeans were undone, and his dick was in his hand. Sips winked at him, and Trott was too caught up in everything to do anything but grin back.

     After a minute, Addy took Ross into her mouth, keeping her rhythm. Smith took that as permission to move, and rocked counterpoint to her. Trott stayed put, enjoying her pace and the way he could feel Smith against him through her walls. 

     She was speeding up ever so slowly, and Trott started to rock his hips with her. Ross had a small crease between his eyebrows, his mouth open slightly, and it was driving Trott wild to just sit back and watch him. Trott could just see past Ross’ glamour if he concentrated, and his tail was lashing through the air, channeling the movement he was undoubtedly holding back. Trott could barely hear his huffs of breath over the muffled music and Smith’s ongoing litany of moans and encouragement and curses. 

     Trott could feel energy roiling in the air like a tangible thing, wild and flowing like the rush of a river. Even being tangentially ensnared in Smith’s magic was a rush, just the overwhelming thrill of the hunt flooding his senses. Addy’s skin was soft under his hands and he could only think of how delicious it’d be when they finally killed her.

     She was moaning around Ross, and Ross gasped at that, his eyes closing tight. Trott felt the magic tighten around him. For a moment Trott could only think about how she was warm and alive and so sweetly mortal around him. Natural untapped magic begging to be taken, and offered up so readily-

     Trott realized he had a hand on her shoulder and was fucking into her fast and hard, exertion and pleasure burning through him. Distantly, he wondered when that had happened. Smith was only rocking into her now with the force of Trott’s thrusts, his hands soft on her sides and breasts, and Trott wondered how he could be so calm. He always felt like a starved thing in these enchantments. 

     It was just so irresistible, power and pleasure wrapping around them all, closer and closer, condensing down to fit under his skin, Ross and Smith moaning and gasping- 

     Something tapped against his knuckles, smooth and flat. He opened his eyes, half lidded and fucked out, to Sips holding a blade out to him. His rhythm faltered, and he felt the magic lift away from him a little, orgasm pushed just a little farther away by the change in pace. 

     He took the blade, held it carefully away from Addy’s skin as he placed his hand back on her shoulder. His fast pace resumed, and with the way magic crept back in close, he didn’t notice Sips had stepped closer until a hand on his chin pulled him to face him, and he was being kissed.

     Sips was obviously enjoying the show. His kiss wasn’t calm and composed as usual, it was hungry and wanting. He must’ve been feeling some residual magic even if it was all pointed carefully away from him. 

     The kiss did it, Ross watching them with hazy eyes and Smith undoubtedly guessing from what he could see. Trott was completely consumed, all his focus on the amazing sacrifice he was deep inside, and how he was being kissed senseless by his king, it was all too much. He was a bowstring drawn tighter and tighter as magic seeped through his skin and condensed deep in his stomach.

     He barely had the presence of mind to pull away from Sips and draw the blade across Addy’s neck with an uncoordinated hand. The magic in the air doubled, like a second orgasm coming over him with how overwhelmingly good it felt. 

     Trott paused there, letting the aftershocks roll over him. Ross pulled out, and Smith had brought Addy’s neck down to him, claiming firsts for the blood. Smith always did to seem to enjoy it more when they drowned in their blood rather than a knife through the heart. Trott pulled away and let him at it, sitting back and carefully wrapping the blade in her discarded clothes. Her chest heaved but only gurgles came out, and her hands weakly tried to push herself up, away from Smith.

     Smith flipped the body over onto her back, on top now and still licking and sucking at her neck. Her movements had slowed as Sips had retreated back to the couch, lounging sprawled and imperial. The image was slightly ruined by the faint expression of revulsion on Sips’ face.

     Ross settled close behind Trott and nuzzled his shoulder, horns bumping him but never scratching. Trott reached his arm up to settle his hand in Ross’ hair, and Ross moved from nuzzling to laying soft kisses leading in towards his neck. Addy stopped struggling completely within another couple seconds, and Trott thought he could faintly feel a final echo of her last heartbeats.

     Sips interjected dryly, “Someone might want to control ponyboy there.”

     Trott looked over, pushing through a haze of magic and want. Smith was getting rough, teeth biting at the wound, getting messy. Trott reluctantly pulled away from Ross and got a tight hold of Smith’s hair. Smith raised his head enough to snarl at him, eyes bright green and shining. Trott shook him, waiting for his eyes to focus on him. Smith’s face relaxed as he paused, shot a glance to Sips, then nodded. Trott shoved him over to the couch. 

     Sips was watching them all intently, lips parted so slightly he probably didn’t even know he was doing it. Trott had to admit, there was something utterly entrancing about the way Smith stumbled the few steps over to Sips before settling in his lap, high not only from the lingering effects of the spell, but also from the influx of energy that he got. The ritual was so much more powerful than the simple hunts he usually went on.

     Trott could hear Ross moving over to the body, felt the weight shifting on the bed as he went at her neck. Ross started licking up the blood streaming down the sides of her neck. He wasn't savage like Smith, or intent like Trott would be. He licked in broad strokes, like laving attention on her would settle the energy undoubtedly bouncing throughout him. 

     Trott stayed focused on Smith and Sips. Smith’s heightened instincts weren’t an issue here, Sips was dear to them all and Smith would never target him. Trott was only watching them because they were the absolute picture of debauchery. Smith pressed close to Sips, kissing him deeply, no prelude. Trott didn’t miss the furrow of Sips’ brow, the instinctive flinch from the taste of blood that he never quite got over. 

     Smith ground his hips into Sips, ignoring the way his open zipper must have been digging in uncomfortably on his bare thighs and dick. Both their hands were roaming- Sips’ sensual, Smith’s restless. Sips suddenly recoiled, and pulled Smith’s hair back. He looked Smith in the eye and said evenly. “Stay with me Smiffy, you can bite all you want when you get back to your dinner. Not with with me, capisce?”

     Smith was shaking ever so slightly, instinct undoubtedly warring with reason. He offered his neck up instead, and Sips leaned in, licking and sucking up the blood that had splattered across him when Trott had made the cut. 

     Ross tugged at Trott’s hand, and he turned to see Ross sitting behind him, licking red from his lips. It contrasted starkly from his pale skin, and his eyes were still lost and longing. 

     Trott stilled for a moment, struck with Ross’ beauty, how effortlessly stunning he was.

     Ross tugged his hand again, urging him to switch places, and Trott moved with him. He let Ross take his place at the end of the bed and went for Addy’s neck instead. Her skin was noticeably paler, but blood still came up easily enough for him. Her blood was as sweet as mortal blood always was, full of potential and life, even if her body no longer was. The steady flow out of her had slowed, but there was more than enough to get what he needed. Her neck was bloody and soaked, but his hands slipped smoothly through to encourage more blood to the surface.

     The taste of blood on his tongue always felt like coming home somehow, a home older than the one with his court, older than the one he left in the sea. It was bright and sharp on his tongue and he could feel his world narrow down to  _ more, more, more _ . 

     When he had his fill and came back to himself, he got up and approached the couch. Smith tensed in Sips’ arms, hearing him, and he snapped his head toward Trott. His body was as taut as a bow string. There was question in his eyes with the way he glanced from him to the corpse on the bed. Trott gave him a nod, and Smith was out of Sips’ lap like a shot. Sips leaned back, knowing by now to pull away when Smith got to play with his food. 

     Ross settled on one side of Sips while Trott did the same on the other. Sips tilted Ross’ jaw towards him, kissing him while Trott pressed close, tracing sigils and runes of protection and strength and longevity over Sips’ heart with lips and fingertips. Curves and swirls and harsh angles left bright crimson stark against Sips’ pale chest. The magic was calmer, more focused than the uncontrollable rush of the sacrifice, but with the same distracting amount of energy. 

     The only sounds were the wet ripping of Smith enjoying his dinner and the thumping bass that reverberated through the walls. 

     Ross had gotten to his knees between Sips’ legs, and was sucking him off slow and lazy. It jarred Trott to realize it, and snapped him out of the frantic haze he didn’t realize he was still in. 

     Smith eventually stumbled back over to them, his knees weak, collapsing on the other side of Sips with entirely too much relief. Sips shivered with the way Smith’s face was still covered in gore. Trott pulled Smith towards him before he started to make a move towards Sips. 

     Their kiss was unhurried and sensual, Trott running his hands over Smith’s chest and shoulders, through his hair. Sips’ breath caught, watching them, and his hand landed on Trott’s hip. Between where he and Smith were leaned over Ross, Trott felt him speed up on Sips’ cock. Ross’ hair brushed his stomach before he shifted to give him more room.

     Sips came with a held breath and a soft exhale, but his hand tight and bruising on Trott’s side. Ross stayed on his knees, licking his lips and settling his head on Sips’ leg. Trott pulled away from Smith for a moment, before leaning in and kissing his face, around his cheeks and chin. He licked his lips briefly after each kiss, tasting blood still electric on his tongue. 

     Smith was still aroused even if the urgency was out of him now, and he tried to follow Trott’s lips, which made things more difficult. When Trott was satisfied, he pulled back and Smith whined at him. With a soft, fond smile, Trott lifted a hand and wiped off the excess blood before nudging him at Sips. Smith’s face was still stained red, but Trott wasn’t about to get up and disturb the delicate calm around them to clean him more thoroughly. It was enough for Sips not to be put off by it, which was all that mattered anyway.

     Trott settled on Sips’ shoulder, looking down at Ross, who was looking up at Smith and Sips kissing. Trott combed his fingers through Ross’ hair, and Ross pushed his head further into Trott’s hand, eyes going half lidded in pleasure. 

     Trott closed his eyes to the comfort of his court around him, and to the fading feeling of new enchantments and ancient rituals settling around them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /heaves big sigh of relief
> 
> This chapter has been in the works for over a year now. It seems like this has been in the back of my mind since forever, and it feels really strange to say its done. This chapter is absolutely the longest thing I've ever written, and I cannot really express how rewarding it is to say its done despite how difficult it was to keep it going. 
> 
> One day I'll stop writing run-on sentences, but in the meantime, thank you to Ghost, who tore into this like I needed. This is so much more readable thanks to them. Many thanks to Leon, whose early words of encouragement kept me going in the long months it took to get to this point. Last but not least, thank you to Three, who pointed out what worked in terms of phrasing and characterization.   
> And of course, thank you to everyone who reads, leaves kudos, or comments. You all make my day and keep me motivated.
> 
> There's an 8tracks playlist you can find [here](8tracks.com/candiedkatanas/death-raves/)  
> And as always, you can find me on tumblr at [cookiesandkatanas](cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com/)


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